


comparing lists

by greekdemigod



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, post 3x03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8443891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greekdemigod/pseuds/greekdemigod
Summary: Luisa is not okay.[Rose isn't the only one who makes a list.]





	

**Author's Note:**

> What a ride that episode was, jfc. I knew immediately that I would be writing canon fics this week to try and deal with my feelings. This short thing right here's only the beginning.  
> Please excuse any mistakes you see, I'm writing this on so little sleep I don't know how I'm even writing in English right now. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy though!

Luisa is not okay. She tries to be, and she wishes she could think that one day she will be, but there is no compromising on her ethics, both those she has as a doctor and as a person who wants to love, not fight. _Do no harm. Do no harm. Do no harm._

The names burn into her mind.

That, at least, is finally a feeling she is familiar with.

Everything has been new and uncertain since she allowed Rose to steal her away from the Marbella, from Miami, from the mainland and into this deep sea world. To a new way of living, in the submarine, and a new way of being around Rose, now that there are almost no secrets between them anymore.

But memorizing the names of dead people isn’t foreign to her.

The paper crinkles between her hands.

She has had this list in her mind for years. There are colleagues of her that can forget. It sometimes became a heated debate between the side that advocates shrugging the losses off and the side that finds it a criminal offense to not carry those people along with you.

Luisa knows every name of all the babies that died because her hands and her knowledge weren’t enough, of all the mothers that didn’t live through delivery to meet their newborns.

And she shouldn’t be doing this—she knows what she’s trying to do, and that she shouldn’t be forcing anything, but she craves this and she has always indulged herself.

But she finally gets to stop imagining Rose with a smoking gun in her hand, blood splattered across the jaw that she loves kissing, a hard coldness in her eyes as she jots down name after name. She gets thinks about her own shortcomings instead and while it hurts, it also breaks thoughts that hurt more, and the relief is gigantic.

Luisa would never murder intentionally. Even if she is on the run with a criminal, that much will never change. But she has killed.

And she has done a lot of it.

Some she could not have prevented. But if she hadn’t relapsed that often, been on the job completely drunk off her ass, thinking that just because she had gotten through med school drunk going through practicing drunk would be doable...

Her shoulders slump and her head drops to her arms, remembering.

Eventually she got used to it. The guilt, the regrets, the insecurity, the anxiety. It was tough on her in her first years, but she got used to it.

Maybe she can’t ever forgive Rose. But maybe she can get used to knowing that a darkness lurks in them both and she won’t jump every time the other catches her unaware, she won’t lie awake wondering why she hasn’t demanded to be let go yet.

Luisa sits there for a long time, looking at these two lists that aren’t much different in length, and aches.

* * *

Rose is practiced light-footed, but she tries to make more sound walking around so Luisa is alerted of her nearing presence. It still hurts to remember how Luisa _jumped_ when she entered, but she also knows that she deserves some of the other’s behavior.

Or maybe _all_ of the other’s behavior.

It’s not like they’ve been actively working through their problems the last two months.

She sits down at the table next to Luisa, ready to explain her plan to the other—she’s never leaving Luisa out of anything anymore, that she solemnly promised herself. But the paper in front of her catches her eye.

One is the list she wrote this morning of all the people she has murdered directly, in chronological order. She thought, from afar, the other paper had to be Rafael’s pathetic excuse for a birthday e-mail. But it seems to be _another_ list.

“What’s that?” she asks curiously, but makes sure to keep her hands to herself.

Luisa hands it over to her anyway, with her eyes directed anywhere but looking right at her. As wonderful as the past two months have been, they have also been exhausting and painful. She wants just one moment with Luisa that doesn’t feel like she might have won a battle, but she won’t win the war.

The names don’t ring a bell until one finally does, though it takes her a moment to remember where she’s heard it before.

She had been dating Emilio for almost three years at that point when Luisa called her, drunk and sobbing, telling her about how she had let a mother bleed out and then hadn’t been able to save her twin daughters even.

“You made a kill list.” The words taste like poison on her tongue. Her fingers clench so tightly around the paper that it rips, but Luisa is looking at her hands and Rose is looking at _her_ , so nobody notices. “ _Luisa_...”

“ _Rose_ ,” she counters, fingers fidgeting at the hem of her shirt.

Rose sighs and shifts, so she can reach her hand up to Luisa’s cheek and gently ease her gaze up to meet her own. “You’re not a bad person. You’re the _best_ person I know.”

“But I have done bad things. Just like you.” She sucks on her bottom lip then, in a way that Rose has never been able to deny, but now it’s so easy. Not a part of her would want to cut this conversation short before Luisa feels better about herself yet.

“You know what we’re going to do? I _am_ going to make a list of people I’ve slept with, and so will you, and then you can feel smug about your list being much longer than mine.”

That gets a laugh out of Luisa and the sad, forlorn expression disappears from her face. “Mine _would_ be longer, wouldn’t it?”

“Definitely. No one can say no to you.”

Luisa climbs into her lap and Rose is quick to wrap her arms around the other woman, smiling back as she feels slender fingers run through her natural curls (Luisa hasn’t been able to get enough of them, even despite how weirdly detached and distant their sex sometimes become). “You tried to say no to me in the past a few times.”

“Never again.” She bends down to kiss up Luisa’s throat and grins wide when she rounds over her chin and claims her mouth. “ _Never, never, never_.”

“Even if I ask you to the dishes yourself for once?”

Rose stops kissing the love of her life for a moment to laugh softly and nod. “For you, I would.”

* * *

When they curl up naked together later that morning, to finally talk about Rose’s plan while they’re still coming down and cooling off from what they’ve just done, they both start to think that they might be able to pull this off after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
